It Isn't True
by Strawb-sama
Summary: Shuichi's not the writer, Yuki was. Yes, I said WAS.
1. Pink

Know what? I think it's high time I wrote a Gravitation fanfiction. And, since I was just at a funeral, I will use a common plot- Yuki deathfic- in a slightly different way. I'm going to try and induce this with heavy emotion, meaning, and symbolism. Put on your saftey belts, people, it's going to be a long and bumpy ride.  
*Strawb-sama*  
  
It wasn't true. It wasn't true. It wasn't-  
  
He sighed.  
  
It was true. All the disbelieving fans, all the shocked friends who knew him well, and all the numb ones who knew him more than well, knew in their hearts it was true. But love's advice is to not always believe one's heart- so why did all these people have to, regardless of how much love they had for Yuki Eiri?  
  
To one Shindou Shuichi, that love was a lot.   
  
He filled the one-person category of "those who knew him more than well". Likewise, he took the pain of Yuki's death the hardest of anyone. He hadn't slept in days. He hadn't eaten in days. Hell, when he'd gotten home from the hospital four days ago, when he'd first heard news of the tragedy, he'd sat down on the floor in the living room and hadn't moved from it since. With the phone beside him, pen and paper in front of him, there was nothing more he currently needed.  
  
Shuichi gave a hollow laugh at that one.   
  
And now they wanted him to do too much. He'd actually picked up the phone every time it had rung in those past four days, which was somewhere around eleven hundred. Hiro had let him know that he, Shuichi, would be doing the eulogy at his lover's funeral. Suguru had told him- not asked him- to sing a song for Yuki at the funeral. He could pick a song to sing, but had to write his own eulogy.  
  
Writing was what Yuki had been good at, not the wide eyed teen. He sat there, amethyst eyes dull and emotionless, staring at nothing.   
  
Finally, the boy glanced down at his work. He picked up a pen and hastily wrote out some inelligible kanji.  
  
"Yuki Eiri was..."  
  
No.  
  
"When I first heard the news of Yuki's death..."  
  
No...  
  
"The tragic car accident that killed Yuki..."  
  
No! Why wasn't this working? He slammed down his pen with a forceful thrust, shaking the unfallen tears from his eyes and sending them cascading down his already wet cheeks. It wasn't the first time that day that this had occurred.  
  
He felt numb. He was in disbelief. It was as if somebody had frozen him in a block of ice- one expression continually on his face, one emotion constantly being portrayed. It was impossible to change it. And there was nothing he could do about the world outside of him- he wanted to so badly, but was forced to remain in his ice. And when you're cold, part of your brain shuts down and more or less ignores what you tell it to do. Shuichi was experiencing a great deal of this as well.  
  
Why couldn't he have his Yuki back? What had he done to deserve this? He was ready to collect all the shit everyone had told him- about it being okay, he would get through it, to look on the bright side- and put it in a garbage can to dispose of it properly. Shuichi was downright tired of it. They didn't know. They didn't know.  
  
"It isn't true... it isn't true... it isn't-"  
  
*  
  
"It's true," whispered Hiro to Ryuichi. "Kumagoro is pink, not rose."  
  
Ryuichi glared back at his long haired friend. "Fine. If you say so. But Kumagoro says he is to rose!"  
  
"He matches Shuichi's hair. He's pink."  
  
The day of the funeral was wrong. It was all wrong. Shuichi had been expecting something gloomy and rainy, cold and all around horrible weather to be outside. But it was quite the contrary- bright, sunny, and unseasonably warm.  
  
Weather sucked.   
  
The funeral mass was about to begin. Since so many fans of Yuki's had attended, and a great number of Shuichi's as well, not everyone could fit in the vestibule where the beginning of the service took place. So it was only Bad Luck, Nittle Grasper, Tatsuha, and Mika who assembled around the casket just then.  
  
The pink haired teen looked at the altar servers while Hiro and Ryuichi argued, everyone waiting for the mass to start. There were four of them- three boys and a girl- all dressed in red garments, standing next to the white robes-donned priest. They looked out of place and uncomfortable. Shuichi wondered if they'd ever been to a funeral, let alone one two famous bands attended for the death of a famous writer. He wiped his eyes for the third time in a minute, and felt Hiro put his hand on his friend's shoulder for support.  
  
"Ahem," the priest finally said. "We are gathered here today to say goodbye to Yuki Eiri. Whether friend, brother, author, or-" he glanced at Shuichi "-lover, he will be missed. Everyone gathered in the back may step up to have a last look at Eiri-san. Please place your flowers on his chest."  
  
Shuichi watched Mika and Tatsuha go first, Mika dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. They stepped up to the open casket, quietly said their respects, and placed their pink carnations on their brother's chest.  
  
Next went Nittle Grasper. Tohma, Ryuichi, and Noriko solemnly addressed the sight before them. Their eyes were dry, but their hearts heavy as they too set the pink carnations onto Yuki.  
  
And Bad Luck. As Shuichi went up first, he gasped and became weak at the sight.   
  
Someone, whoever had dressed Yuki in his funeral clothes, had moved his mouth muscles into a smile.  
  
He scowled through the waterfall his normally beautiful, happy, and full of life eyes were making. Nobody really knew his Yuki. He would have expected Mika, at least, to fix the problem. But, as Hiro and Suguru joined him on either side, he reached out to make his Yuki solemn. Like usual.  
  
However, he drew back suddenly as soon as the tips of his warm fingers made contact with the lifeless skin of his lover. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't- it was like the skin of a doll. Cold, absent of all movement, and soul-less.   
  
He turned and sobbed into Hiro's shoulder, throwing his carnation aside.  
  
"They made them for me, Hiro," he said between sobs. "The pink carnations. They were to match my hair."  
  
The taller boy glanced around warily, patting Shuichi on his pink little head. "I know, Shuichi, I know. Ssshhh."  
  
"Why weren't they sunflowers or something, Hiro? My Yuki's hair is yellow. Not pink. It's not fair!" he cried out his last words, falling helplessly against his friend.  
  
Hiro embraced him tightly. He reached over the boy on his chest and put his flower on the blonde haired body.  
  
"I guess, in a twisted sort of way, I'm doing the same thing you are right now, Yuki," he whispered, smiling darkly. "We've both got a Shuichi on our chests.  
  
"But look at you. You've got so much more Shuichi on yours than me. You always will, Yuki, you always will."  
  
Hiro stepped away and used his friend's shirt to wipe his eyes. Suguru silently picked up Shuichi's discared carnation and put that and his own with everyone else's.  
  
It was still and quiet for a moment, save the sniffles from Mika and Shuichi. Then Kumagoro, the mischevious bunny he was, snuck up, took Shuichi's flower, and moved it to Yuki's crotch area.  
  
"What?" Ryuichi cried as he was hastily fwapped by Hiro, Noriko, and Mika all at the same time. "Kuma is just trying to ligten things up!" Hiro gave the childish man a glare and moved the flower to its proper place. The altar server children giggled in spite of it all.  
  
"All right, my brothers and sisters. Let us move into the church to proceed."  
A/N: Wow. I like where this is going- no, no, no. To answer any questions in advance, Shu will NOT hook up with someone new. This is simply Yuki's funeral, and Shuichi being sad over him- if your lover died, wouldn't you go to your friends for comfort in a non sexual way? Anyway, reviews are GREATLY appreciated. Feel free to IM me at SchizoPaperclip or email me at orenjiirosora@hotmail.com. Ja for now! 


	2. Yellow

It Isn't True Chapter Two: Yellow  
Notes: I just realized something. After I wrote my first two fanfictions (both for Wei§), I resolved to dedicate anything else I posted to someone. Because I think that's cute. So, it seems appropriate that this story is dedicated to my partner in crime, T.C. Without her, I would never know anime. Without her, I wouldn't be inspired to write. Aishiteru, T.C.!  
The priest began. "My friends, I know at this time in your life, you are at a state of disbelief. You are saying to yourself, 'It isn't true. It isn't true. It isn't-' but it is. To relieve ourselves of the grief, we must first sweat it out. It's rather like having a fever. You have to deal with it to make it go away sooner. With that note, let us pray."  
  
Everyone bowed their heads.  
  
"Lord, help us to remember Eiri-san and all the deceased. Let us be strong and remember to pray not only for Eiri-san, not only for others, but for ourselves."  
  
As everybody sat down, Shuichi thought about those words. Long and hard.  
  
And before he knew it, it was his time.  
  
"Shindou-san? Shindou-san, would you please come forward?"  
  
"What?" He jumped and looked up.  
  
Hiro leaned over to whisper to him. "It's time for your eulogy," he hissed.  
  
"Oh. Right." Shuichi stood up.  
  
"Where's what you wrote? What're you going to read?"  
  
He looked back at Hiro as he walked to the altar. "I'm not a writer. Yuki is."  
  
Stopping when he reached the podium, he stared out at the assembly for a minute. There were so many people there- lots of schoolgirls, weeping their eyes out for the man whose yellow hair they'd never know. There were those, crying softly or mourning for the hair that they'd looked at without really seeing. And then there was he, Shuichi, who took pride in being the only one who ran his fingers through that hair. Who had smelled that hair daily, who was so familiar with its scent of green apples, and who would miss it forever. It was gone? That wasn't true. That wasn't true. That wasn't-  
  
"Shindou-san, are you ready to begin?"  
  
Again, Shuichi jumped and looked up. The priest was smiling warmly at him.  
  
He nodded slowly.  
  
Opening his mouth, he expected something to come out. Anything that would say what Shuichi could never make the written form do so. But all that he emitted was an awkward squwak.  
  
"Ahem." He wiped his eyes on the borrowed Kumagoro that Ryuichi had slipped him at the beginning of mass, and started over.  
  
"I... I don't know how to start. It'd help a lot if I had something to read off of- something I had written- but I'm not the writer. Yuki is." He coughed. "Was.  
  
"Even when we first met, that's how it was. He said I was a horrible songwriter, and from then on I loved him."  
  
Several schoolgirls went, "Awwwww."  
  
"You- nobody knows what it's like. Yuki was such a different person from just about anyone else in the world. You had to learn to speak his language. He'd say to go away, when he'd want nothing more than to have you by his side. He'd tell you you were a baka, when really, he'd love everything about you. Insults were affectionate, according to Yuki-ese.  
  
"Mika, say Tohma died. Or vice versa. Or for anyone out there. Say your significant other died. He was ripped from your feeble grasp by the mighty jaws of death, and it was all you could do to hold on for as long as you did. And then the mouth swallowed him whole. Leaving with you nothing but the last memory of him.  
  
"So I guess that's why I'm here today. Standing in front of all of you, without even a plan of what I'm going to say. All that's been haunting me for days is the last image of my lover's body, his eyes pleading me to hold on just a little bit longer. And then I saw him leave. I saw him leave.   
  
"But I need to remember the Yuki Eiri he was. And the Yuki Eiri he is up in Heaven right now. He would say I was a baka for getting up here without a plan in the world. ....... I... I miss you, Yuki."  
  
He stopped and turned away from the crowd for a moment. After he had gathered himself, he went on.  
  
"Yuki was my sun. He warmed me up every day, made me feel good to be alive, no matter how harsh he sometimes was to me. Just like the sun- regardless of the sunburn, you love it. And during the days it isn't shining- it isn't there- you're just generally mopey. I've noticed that rainy days just make me in a crappy mood. Nothing in particular- it just sucks. When Yuki's not around, that's how it is.  
  
"What a damn hurricane I've been caught in."  
  
Shuichi stared down at his hands. He wondered whether it was a sin to curse in a church.  
  
Damn, he thought. Damn damn damn damn damn.  
  
"He was a great big yellow sun. Burning bright all the days of his life, and, so it seemed, hidden behind a cloud to everyone but myself.  
  
"Let me ask you all something. Did any of you, ever, once, run your fingers through his hair?"  
  
A few people shook their heads no. The rest stayed grave.  
  
"That was only me. Only I, out of everyone in the world, got the joyous privelige of being able to do that. None of you have ever looked at Yuki Eiri, writer, brother, friend, lover, and actually seen him. X-ray vision, you could call it. I saw what was on the inside. And it was a beautiful, radiant thing. It still is. I will forever be searching for the words to describe it.... I...."  
  
That was it. He broke down, slumping over the podium, body writhing with emotion. Ryuichi and Hiro immediately hurried up to either side of their friend, trying to hug him at the same time. As Ryuichi held him behind the tallest of the three, Hiro looked up and continued where Shuichi had left off.  
  
"Yuki Eiri. I didn't know him. I just did not. As Shu-chan said, no one knew him except for Shuichi himself. You couldn't see him unless you looked at him through a pair of Eiri brand glasses. And he only sold them to certain people. So far, he's only made one sale- to Shindou Shuichi. Anyone else just saw... Yuki. But... they didn't. I guess Shu is right- you really can't describe it. But anyone who knew him knows what I'm trying to say, so I guess that's all right." He turned slowly to check on the state of his friend. Ryuichi winked at him and motioned for him to go sit down. Hiro did.  
  
"What Shuichi means, is, folks, is this. When you look at the sun, can you see the yellow? Or do you just see the blinding white light?" Ryuichi said to the crowd, an arm protectively slung around the pink haired boy's shoulder.  
  
Shuichi looked up at his friend. "I only see the light, Sakuma-san."  
  
"Exactly. If you're really, really special, you'll see the yellow. But only one person gets to see that- that's God." He winked up at the priest. "Shuichi, you were God to Yuki."  
  
Shuichi stared at Ryuichi. He blinked and then looked at the crowd, most of whom, save only a few male fans of Yuki's, had wet eyes.   
  
He sniffed and smiled lightly. "Yes. Exactly what Sakuma-san said. I see the yellow."  
A/N: Cute, ne? If it's a little choppy, excuse me. I am trying very hard. I am! Wai!  
By the way, I am in beta business. If you ever need a beta, I will be one for you-I love doing that!  
IM: SchizoPaperclip  
Email: orenjiirosora@hotmail.com  
Well. What's that? A button that says "review." I wonder what it does? Why don't you click it to find out? 


	3. Chapter Three I can't think of a name!

Hello, minna-san. Well, here we go- the third, and probably the final- chapter. Makes me feel special, it does, writing my first multi chapter AND my first Gravi fic. If you've actually read this far into the story, I am amazed and I applaud you- I guess we all have to stick with things we don't like, eh? Well, anyway.  
Ryuichi and Shuichi made their way back to their seats. The priest smiled and stood up.  
  
"Arigatou, Shindou-san, Sakuma-san, and Nanako-san. Now, to end the service, we will have a song performed by Shindou Shuichi, in dedication to Yuki Eiri.  
  
Shuichi glared at the priest when his back was turned. Why couldn't he have a little time to pull himself together? Did he look like he was in the mood for singing?  
  
But he was the singer. Yuki wasn't.  
  
He slowly walked over to the back of the church, where the organist sat. There was a small microphone set up for him. He leaned forward to speak into it hesitantly.  
  
"I, um-" his voice cracked. "I'm going to sing a song by a band called Agent Orange, called 'Say It Isn't True'."  
  
"Whoo! Yeah Shuichi!"  
  
He heard cat calls and cheers from his friends in the front pews. He smiled to himself.  
  
"Let's go, Yuki," he whispered.  
  
"another time - another place  
another answer just in case  
it's just a memory that I will soon forget  
another glamorous debut  
another chance to see right through  
your empty promises that mean so much to me  
  
"and all at once I get the feeling  
that I'll never get the chance to talk to you  
and all at once i get the feeling  
that I'll never hear you say it isn't true  
  
"I had a dream - I saw you in a magazine  
I turned the page and you were gone  
I can't explain - I can't express the way I feel  
it's so complex - it's so unreal  
  
"all these places I have been  
they're all the same - it's just the miles and miles  
that set them all apart  
and all these faces I have seen  
it seems to me that they've been  
trying to tell me something from the start  
  
"and all at once I get the feeling that I'll  
never get the chance to talk to you  
and all at once I get the feeling  
that I've got to hear you say it isn't true  
  
"It isn't true, it isn't true, it isn't...." He trailed off to end the song.  
  
The church erupted into loud applause and cheers. As Shuichi walked back to the pew he sat in, he couldn't help smiling a little through Niagra Falls. Hiro, Ryuichi, and Mika all wrapped him in a big hug as he sat down.  
  
"I'm the singer. Yuki wasn't," he said to Hiro after it all quieted down. "And now, he'll never get to be one, either."  
  
*  
  
The mass had ended. As they all made their way over to the cemetery a few blocks away, Hiro continued that conversation they'd left off in the church.  
  
"But you can be a writer, Shuichi."  
  
"What?" Shuichi looked up from the window he'd been staring out of. He and Hiro and Suguru were in a limo together, being taken to the cemetery. "No, I can't. That's Yuki's thing."  
  
Hiro handed him a piece of paper and a pen. "Go ahead. Just write."  
  
He looked thoughtful for a minute. Then pen touched paper and didn't leave until they reached the burial grounds.  
  
Shuichi grasped the paper firmly in his left hand with a look on his face that said he was determined not to cry. However, as Ryuichi touched his shoulder, that piece of glass shattered.   
  
Hiro gently took the paper from his friend's hand and read what he had written so far.  
  
"Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow Pink Yellow It isn't true. It isn't true. It isn't"  
Well, that's the end, guys! Please review and tell me what you think- that'd be greatly appreciated! Arigatou! 


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